


You're a little much for me

by WaterSeraphim



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Character Death, dancer felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSeraphim/pseuds/WaterSeraphim
Summary: The war is beginning to take its toll on Felix's mind, so he dances to forget.Verdant Wind Sylvix love confessions featuring dancer Felix.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	You're a little much for me

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write something sappy about these two! This is based off of events that happened in my first Verdant Wind play through.

When Byleth had first approached Felix on the subject of participating in the White Heron Cup he assumed his professor was joking.

Then again, professor Byleth was even less open with his emotions than Felix himself. He never smiled, he never laughed, barely even blinked. It was a struggle to discern if the professor was human at all, or if his life as a mercenary stripped away his very soul. But the idea that he saw Felix as a candidate was so absurd he must have been joking.

He was not.

His professor was skilled, shrewd and perceptive. Byleth managed to twist his words against him and lead him to believe that dancing would elevate his swordplay. That the absolute control and awareness over his body could translate into honing his footwork and his focus. 

At the heart of it, dancing was a mastery over one's physical form. 

It made sense, but Felix still loathed the idea of humiliating himself before his classmates. After switching houses he felt even more isolated, withdrawn from himself. He didn’t know anyone, he hadn’t grown up with them. They hadn’t lived through every hardship alongside him. Felix convinced himself that he didn’t care about the Alliance students anyway. He hated how they tried to fool themselves into thinking they were friends.

He joined for professor Byleth, Felix knew that if he wanted to improve he needed to follow the one man that could understand him. One day he would defeat the Ashen Demon in a spar. For now, he trained.

In the end the aspect that spoke to him the most was the challenge of learning something new. Winning the competition for Von Reigan was just another way to mock the beast. Another way to put his skill in combat ahead of his opponents. Perhaps if he was good enough Felix could be like one of the legendary dancing swordsmen. 

Byleth had trained him in this too, studied his every move and taught him how to let go. To release himself of his frustrations and sway to the rhythm of his spirit. Their dance practice was unconventional. He wasn’t learning the waltz, at least not at first. He was learning how to feel. 

The professor respected his limits, never laying a hand on him or trying to force a smile. Sometimes when they practiced they would go hours without speaking to one another outside of simple orders. Felix wasn’t learning how to sing after all. 

When Felix was announced the winner of the competition he barely believed it. How could no one in the monastery be a better dancer than  _ him?  _ How did Dorothea, the diva herself, lose? Sure Felix was nimble and agile but he didn’t have half the charm or beauty to woo the judges.

Byleth gave a smile so slight he would have believed it to be an illusion until the man verbally commended his victory.  _ Nicely done.  _ Shortly after that the Golden Deer crowd swarmed to him herding him into a massive hug. The lone wolf among a pack of sheep.

Hilda squealed into his ear about how handsome he was, her chest pressing into his side. Leonie cheered  _ I never doubted you, Felix!  _ Marianne stood at the outskirts of their group and shyly complimented his skill. Lysethia tried to hide her grin and failed horribly. 

He ignored all of them in favor of catching Sylvain’s gaze. That smile was etched into his memory, but seeing it time and time again still left him breathless. 

  
  
  


Five years later he still felt like a stranger among them. With the beast dead and his kingdom in ruins Felix had little reason to hope. To wish for something more. The smile on Mercedes’ face wavered, Annette’s eyes lost their sparkle, and even Sylvain forgot how to laugh for a time.

He had Byleth again, someone to prove himself to. Their old professor’s return sparked a change in their fate. The years in his absence were harrowing and full of grief. Now they could hope again. 

Felix returned to dancing. Without Byleth he had no one worth sparring. Sylvain never wanted to train, he was destined to kill himself with his negligence some day. While the Deer had their strengths they also prove to be little match for him. Claude was tricky but spent too much of his time talking, and his time was a precious commodity when he was becoming so deeply rooted into his position in the Alliance. Ignatz wasn’t very talented with a sword, and Lorenz grated on his nerves beyond compare. Even Raphael wasn’t much of a challenge. He might be good at hand to hand but so was Felix, and the giant man was terrible at concealing his thoughts while sparring. Felix could read him like a book he could always tell what move Raphael was about to make before he made it.

So he danced between searching for a decent opponent. 

The music was gone and outright silenced along with anyone who opposed the Empire. So he danced to the winds sighing through the destroyed walls, the sound of guards making their rounds and insects nestled into the cracks in the church’s facade. The priests sending hushed prayers to Sothis for guidance in the upcoming battles they would face. He was certain if Sylvain was present he would hum some romantic tune to help him focus.

In the rubble of a once-great shrine Felix breathed in, and then exhaled.

He started slow, tiptoeing across the floor and allowing his body to remember its routine. In all things, jumping right into it would prove to be disappointing. Felix came to the church to dance often these days, perhaps three times a week or more. It helped him focus, to become human again as the war was set on ripping it from him. Before the reunion he would hide away in his room in Fraldarius and do something similar.

The ruins were another obstacle for his steady footsteps. One false move and the trance would be broken. He couldn’t close his eyes and forget himself just yet. Felix had to watch for shattered stone and splintered wood scattered about the floor. 

Growing faster more certain in his rhythm his breath became louder. It echoed in the remains of the church. Felix could almost imagine the sound of a harp in time with his beat. Real music was much better than counting, but the music had died when lady Rhea vanished. When Fodlan remembered what war was. 

The muscles in his legs strained as he pushed himself further. Strands of hair fell into his eyes and sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His hair was always falling out of its tie and getting in his face. His boots weren’t meant for dancing, his soles were aching, killing him. The pain allowed him to forget the rampant thoughts running through his head at least for a moment

He could focus on something that wasn’t the war. He could stop imaging Sylvain’s blood on his hands or Mercedes with an axe through her chest. It was only a matter of time before they left him just like Glenn, just like Byleth. And now… Dimitri…Ingrid… 

Yes, his professor returned, but for almost five years Felix believed him to be dead. He mourned for him, in his own way. The people he grew attached to never lived very long.

Sylvain would kill himself for Felix one day. It wasn’t a question or a possibility. He was preparing for when the fool would rush to take another blow meant for him and pay the price. Long ago between lazy days and afternoons in flowering gardens they made a promise to last a lifetime, to always be there for each other. How could Sylvain be there for him if he was dead? Why couldn’t he understand that Felix  _ cared  _ for him _?  _

This wasn’t ballroom dancing. This was the movement of a dying man. A wish for absolution. The flourishes of his arms, twirling of his cloak and sway of his narrow hips were for no one else. It was a prayer in its own right, but he wasn’t praying to any god. If only it could be that easy. 

He had to hide away in the old church so he wouldn’t be seen. Everywhere else was crawling with Alliance soldiers or his old classmates. His dorm was liable to be intruded by a band of merry Deer at any moment, and it was uncomfortably crowded for dancing. 

So he hid in the side transept and danced. The craters in the structure revealed the night sky above. Hues of midnight and sparkling stars only illuminated by candlelight, the roaring flames of life. It was cold, but Felix was born in the north. The cold was just another old acquaintance that reappeared in his life time and time again. Despite it all, he was working up quite a sweat. 

He closed his eyes now, and he danced.

In another world he was far away, back in House Fraldarius with Glenn before his life crumbled to dust. Before Dimitri became the beast, before his classmates were on the other side of his blade.

Felix was never close to Ashe, but he was kind and always tried to bring him meals when his training made him forget to eat. 

Byleth cut him down quickly, so his students didn’t have to. It didn’t matter. They all still saw his body break and bleed. Watched as the flames ate away at his flesh. When Felix slept at night he heard Ashe’s screams.

After the fighting ended in Ailell they brought Ashe’s remains back to the monastery. With Lonato dead, Garreg Mach was the closest thing to a home for him.

Byleth left fresh violets on his grave every day.

He always wanted to be a knight, always asking after Catherine and Jeralt. Lending Felix books about famous heroes and wishing one day that he could be among them. Ingrid was the same way, hearing the two of them babble used to annoy Felix to no end. Now he craved for those days again. 

He danced to remind himself he was alive, to carry on the memories of those who didn’t make it.

When Ferdinand fell in battle his horse landed on top of him crushing his body. Dorothea cried until her throat went numb, she had been the one to deal the killing blow. Cursing Ferdinand for his need to validate himself behind the Empress' shadow. Her black tinted tears soaked her blood stained cheeks. Linhardt watched in morbid silence while Bernadetta sobbed into his shoulder.

_ Ferdie, he used to be our friend. Remember? _

During that battle on the bridge Sylvain blocked an arrow meant for him. He was wrapped in heavy armor while Felix only wore cloth and leather. It made sense. The arrow barely made a dent in the plate. Sylvain brushed it off like it was nothing.

Of course, matters of the heart never made much sense. His chest stung like the arrow still hit its intended mark. For a moment Felix was sure he’d been pierced by another while he was distracted. 

He knew that if Sylvain died, he wouldn’t be able to live far beyond it. Even if he was alive physically it would tear him up from the insides. For better or for worse they were together through everything. Their hearts beat as one. 

But Sylvain was alive now, he was real. He was everything and everyone and the world could destroy itself as long as he still had Sylvain by his side. Felix never spoke of his affections openly, but he was sure Sylvain knew. He was always smarter than he looked.

The battle at Gronder Field had been brutal and hard-won. Fighting to separate armies at the same time turned the battlefield to chaos. It was hard to pinpoint who he was even fighting. Despite it all Byleth led them with his steady certainty and the Alliance hailed victorious. 

It was the aftermath that hurt.

Ingrid had been cut down by Edelgard herself. She had stood by Dimitri’s side through the end, and it cost her her life. The Empire mages took her body, her family couldn’t even bury her.

Felix wasn’t about to allow the beast to escape like that. No. The man had been missing then dead. Now he reappeared as broken and untamed as that day in Duscur that haunted him for years. He needed to try and speak to him, to understand. Hilda had followed close behind Felix as he weaved between trees and dodged corpses of plated knights keeping a safe distance on the boar prince’s trail. He wanted to call out and speak to him, but the prince kept his pace towards the Empire soldiers. Alerting them to his and Hilda’s position as ragged and exhausted as they were would entail certain death.

Then nothing.

He fell, raving and hissing his face and armor already soaked with blood. Some his own, some belonging to Alliance soldiers who strayed too close to his spear.  _ Edelgard, Edelgard, I will kill you. You can’t run from me.  _ His boot caught on a body he failed to notice in his blood lust and crashed to the ground. The Empire soldiers he’d been chasing after swiftly turned on him and ran him through with their weapons as he struggled to stand. He screamed, an ugly and desperate thing, and then collapsed.

Hilda said nothing, but she looked to Felix with pity. She guided them back to the Alliance army, corralling him with a gentle touch on his shoulder. He didn’t want anyone touching him. He didn’t want to go back to Claude and the Deer and have to tell them what happened. He wanted to vomit.

Dimitri.

Dimitri was… dead.

After everything, this was how he died? Like a wild animal, a raging beast. Devoid of any reason or sense at the sight of Edelgard and her army. Felix knew it was coming, but he also thought he’d been better than  _ this. _

Slowly, his childhood was being erased. The group of them playing together with their awkward gangling limbs and naive smiles. Dimitri snapping one of his wooden swords into two. Ingrid sneaking glances at Glenn whenever she thought no one else was looking. Sylvain racing Felix to see who could climb a tree faster and getting stuck halfway, too scared to go any higher. In the end Glenn had to rescue the two of them. 

The memories they shared as children died with them. Glenn, Ingrid, and Dimitri would soon never be spoken of again. How long until Sylvain joined them? Echoes of Felix’s dissonant heart, empty spaces where something should have been. 

So Felix danced. To the beat of his shared heart. To the life still living. To the blood pumping through his veins and the breath in his lungs. To the man who he longed for since his youth.

One two three four.

And danced.

One two three four.

And danced.

His chest was tight, his legs nearly giving out when he finally stopped. It was the feeling of dizziness and sore muscles after a long night of training that he craved. When his head was much lighter than the darkness in the world. It made him feel human. Just like how teaching made Byleth feel human. 

Someone was clapping.

Felix froze, his heart leaping out of his chest. Someone saw him someone saw-

That someone was wrapping their arm around his shoulder with a familiar laugh that made his heart weak.

“Hey! You shouldn’t be hiding away like this Fe. You’re  _ amazing _ . Everyone would love to see you.”

“Sylvain.” He growled and lowered his head in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

Red locks brushed against his jaw as Sylvain rested his head against Felix’s. “I’m just saying, you don’t move like that when you dance on the battlefield.”

“I wasn’t trying to impress you,” Felix spat as he wrenched himself from Sylvain’s hold. “I was hiding for a reason, you idiot.”

Sylvain backed away only slightly and studied his face, raising a single red eyebrow sky high. He was much too close for Felix to breathe easily. He could feel the warmth radiating from him like a brilliant sun. Only comparable to the fire roaring in Felix’s heart. 

Sylvain was wearing more sensible leisure clothes rather than the plate Felix had grown so used to seeing him in as of late. It felt different, more intimate, more real. If Sylvain were to reach out and embrace him Felix could fall into his arms, rest his head comfortably against his muscled chest… 

The strain from his dance was what brought the heat to Felix’s cheeks, surely. 

“I’m alright with keeping you all to myself.”

Felix made a sound akin to gagging and exited the church out to the side balcony. How could Sylvain just say things like that? His empty flirtations and sweet gestures hit like cruel insults. They reminded Felix that no matter how much he wished it he didn’t truly belong to Sylvain. Dozens of faceless women had partaken in the fruit Felix forbade himself from dreaming of. It wasn’t going to happen. Sylvain was clearly not interested.

The chill outside made him wrap his cloak around his shoulders and sigh. He brushed the loose stray hairs from his face before leaning on the railing and staring off into the stars. Sure enough the sound of footsteps alerted Felix to Sylvain trailing behind.

Felix watched him, smiling despite himself. “Remember when we were little? We used to sneak out at night and try to name all the constellations.”

Sylvain settled in beside him, their shoulders grazing. “And we never got past three or four.” He laughed. Felix wished he would do that more often.

“I was never one for reading books,” Felix shrugged.

“The professor really ran you up the wall to get you to learn some magic, didn’t he?” 

Felix scoffed. Sylvain appeared to accept this for an answer, not pushing the topic any further. Instead he simply relaxed in the cool evening air and Felix’s prickly company.

They hadn’t spoken of him, but it weighed heavily between them nonetheless. Sylvain understood in part the strange feelings Felix had harbored for Dimitri. Not quite contemptment, but a resignation that the soul inside of him had been hollowed out long before anyone but him could notice. The others chose not to listen or perhaps didn’t believe in Felix’s seemingly senseless goading. The boar was so good at pretending it was well behaved. 

Felix didn’t want him to die. Dimitri was his friend. Dimitri made sure he wasn’t being left out when everyone was busy ignoring Felix in favor of Glenn. He helped Felix when he fell and scraped his knees and kissed his bruises better when his inhuman strength sent Felix to the ground during sword practice. They were little kids and they didn’t quite understand the world yet, or they understood the world a great deal and all the adults were making it more complicated than it had to be.

In the end he had been right about the boar. Felix hated being right.

Seemingly out of nowhere Sylvain broke the silence between them. Felix would have been grateful for the distraction if not for the nonsense spilling from his mouth. “You’re beautiful, you know?”

“ _ Sylvain-“  _ Felix began with a growl.

“I mean it. I’m not just saying it for… whatever… Look, Fe, I don’t need to impress you. When we’re alone like this I…”

“Stop blathering on about nothing and start making sense!”

“I’m trying to!” Sylvain laughed awkwardly, rubbing his neck before daring to look into his eyes again. “It’s harder to say when it’s you. When it’s real.”

Now it was Felix’s turn to avert his gaze, staring at the sun for too long was bound to leave you burnt. “I don’t like where this is going.”

Another pause, searching for words that could pierce the years of friendship between them. Words that could mean nothing else but a baring of the heart. Sylvain would throw his heart at anyone for the chance to see if it would stick. If he was doing what he thought he was doing, well, he better do it right. Felix waited with bated breath for Sylvain to continue.

“Every day we have together is a gift. With the war… and…” Sylvain trailed off again, his eyes distant and clouded, watching childhood ghosts fall upon the battlefield. Bodies stacking higher and higher. The beat of a pegasus’ wings, a spear scraping against plate metal. “Everything we’ve lost.  _ Everyone. _ I can’t keep going without letting you know. Can’t risk never getting the chance to tell you.”

“Spit it out already!”

“Felix.” Sylvain said softly, as if he was scared of driving him away. “You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You’re so strong and brave and amazing and I love you more than anything in Fodlan. I want to be with you.”

“You’re already with me, you idiot,” Felix breathed around the tightness in his throat. In truth it was proving to be difficult to hold himself together. He was tied between leaping into Sylvain’s arms and kissing the life out of him or running back to his room to try and evaluate his emotions.

Sylvain could sense the conflict warring in his heart, of course he could. Sylvain knew him better than Felix knew himself. 

“Are you alright, Fe?”

“No,” Felix admitted with a dry laugh. He hugged his arms around himself bundled beneath his layers of fur and warm fabric. “I’m not sure what to think anymore.”

“I know it’s sudden and we’re all going through a lot right now, but I wanted you to know. You don’t have to do anything, we can stay here and watch the stars and forget about it.”

“I don’t want to forget about it,” Felix frowned. 

That made Sylvain perk up, “Then…?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Felix grit his teeth. 

“Hearing it would make me happy?” Sylvain smiled innocently.

“I like you too, okay? I’ve liked you since forever and if you want me to say more I’m going to consider punching you.”

Sylvain laughed, because he knew Felix and knew that his threat was only posturing in order to hide his discomfort in the face of emotional honesty. “Ouch, I guess I’ll have to deal with it because I never want to stop hearing you say that.”

“I love you,” Felix grumbled before surging forward and eliminating the space between them, joining their lips together. Sylvain moved against him without hesitation as if he were waiting for Felix to make this move the entire time. He probably had been, all things considered.

Strong hands found their places on Felix’s hips, a physical tether to reality he sorely needed given that his head was empty of all thoughts beyond Sylvain. The familiarity of his scent, the warmth radiating off of him connected by his lips staving off the gloomy chill of winter. Even the small contented sighs he was making were already somewhat known to Felix.

Because they needed to breathe at some point they fell apart, Sylvain’s eyes met his and they wordlessly melted together again. Felix’s back was against the railing and his gloved hand threaded through wavy red hair. Sylvain’s lips smiled against him and no doubt would be stretched into a proud grin whenever they parted again. He didn’t want to let go. After the years of watching from afar and wanting with every ounce of his soul Felix finally had him in his arms. It wasn’t perfect but he never expected it to be, never expected  _ anything  _ in the first place. Felix hadn’t placed his hopes in an impossible fantasy that Sylvain would want him back in the same way.

Being wrong felt so  _ good. _

Felix let himself pull away and relax for a moment. They didn’t have all the time in the world, after all, with the war looming heavy over their shoulders. They had troops to manage, arrangements to make with their fathers and schemes to brew with Von Reigan. It would be difficult to find more than the briefest moments to spend alone together in peace. But Felix never stopped fighting for what he cared about, and he was going to be with Sylvain regardless of the world falling apart around them. 

Felix ducked his head down to rest against Sylvain’s firm chest. His cold flushed cheek pressed into the warmth of Sylvain’s body. The hands that were on his hips trailed higher and wrapped around his shoulders. Felix made a pleased sound as he felt Sylvain nuzzle his chin against his hair.

Sylvain used to hold him like this when they were little. Felix had an embarrassing habit of crying over the smallest things like not being able to sit next to Dimitri at dinner or when Glenn had to go away on his knightly duties and leave him. Ingrid wasn’t… hadn't been as fond of physical comfort as Sylvain was. She much rather distract him with a story or a play fight but those things only began to suit him later on.

The chill was biting at his exposed skin now, making him shiver and huddle closer to Sylvain than would be deemed appropriate. The rush of heat from all the dancing had long since abandoned him in favor of freezing air. 

“Let’s get back, it’s getting late,” Sylvain whispered into his hair. 

In a weeks time they would be claiming Fort Merceus for the Alliance and the hope for a brighter future in the name of peace for Fodlan. Tonight they had each other and that was more than enough for him.

  
  



End file.
